


blue sky

by wildlings (candybank)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, university au......?, who cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 14:14:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20259421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybank/pseuds/wildlings
Summary: “i love you,” wonwoo says again under an open sky and one-hundred stars, cheesy picnic blanket and folding picnic chairs, boxes of takeout and broken wine bottle.





	blue sky

**Author's Note:**

> 🎧 blue sky by the night of seokyo

wonwoo says i love you under an open sky and one-hundred stars, cheesy picnic blanket and folding picnic chairs, boxes of takeout and broken wine bottle, because mingyu forgot to google ‘how to use a cork screw’—instead he opened his mouth to say something smart, something like this isn’t the kind of screwing i’m used to, and wonwoo hit his arm and blushed, and mingyu, distracted, thinking he can do more than one thing at once, he tried to kiss wonwoo while twisting the cap off of the wine bottle.

and the bottle, it exploded into a thousand shards of glass.

“that’s what you get for trying to celebrate our fifth with cheap wine.”

“please, you sound like jeonghan.”

and the bottle, the flying chunks of glass barely missed wonwoo’s eye, but it cut mingyu’s finger, and wonwoo noticed it.

“oh, no,” wonwoo frowned, prompting mingyu to look at his hand.

“it’s okay. i’m—“ mingyu started to say, cut off by wonwoo putting his bleeding finger in his mouth. then, it was an arms race—the electric signals underneath his skin trying to run from the tip of his finger to his brain to tell him that this is happening: your finger is inside wonwoo’s mouth, and he’s sucking the blood out of the tiny wound on your finger which is inside his mouth, and he’s looking at you with Wide Brown Eyes, pupils dilated, like he’s trying to tell you that this is a metaphor for something, for enjoying a lollipop, or sucking your dick, maybe. the blood being pumped out of his heart, every ounce of it sprinted to his hips, to his thighs, to the floor, to hell. already, he could feel his pants tightening. 

as if wonwoo could read his mind, he grinned.

“what?” mingyu asked stupidly, and he saw it all in slow motion: the way wonwoo’s lashes fluttered when he closed his eyes to deepthroat mingyu’s finger. one, then two. the way wonwoo tilted his head to one side and made obscene sounds with his throat, the vibrations numbing mingyu’s entire body.

the cut stung a little, and mingyu’s brain nearly short-circuited trying to decide what needed more immediate medical attention—his dick or his hand. but wonwoo pulled him down, pushed all the takeout boxes aside and wrapped his legs around mingyu’s waist.

“do you…” and mingyu, his words were caught in his throat, somewhere between thinking this isn’t like you and i wish you were more like this, “do you really want to screw on the rooftop of our dorm?”

and he said _ screw _, feeling sixty years old, because he couldn’t get the word out of his mind.

wonwoo nodded yes, and mingyu ignored any warning signs that pointed to this isn’t like him, he knows something, he probably knows you fucked junhui in the back room of a club after minghao’s birthday last week, he probably knows you fucked jeonghan on top of your english lit. professor’s desk yesterday after trying to help him write joshua’s essay. mingyu ignored the amber and the red, and he kissed wonwoo on the mouth, and buried the same kisses into the crook of his neck like secrets under the floorboards, like lies and dirt under his fingernails, and wonwoo said can you do it tonight, i mean me, i’m all good, stuff’s in the pocket of my bag.

and mingyu did exactly that, silence slashed across a full-hour of loud love-making like papercuts across perfect skin.

“i love you,” wonwoo says again under an open sky and one-hundred stars, cheesy picnic blanket and folding picnic chairs, boxes of takeout and broken wine bottle. 

and mingyu, he thinks to say, fuck, it’s fucking cold tonight, huh. he thinks to get up and put his clothes back on and maybe run back to his room to grab a jacket and run back to wonwoo again. but he stays still, completely still. he smiles, buries a kiss into wonwoo’s hair and presses their bodies closer together, “love you too.”


End file.
